When You Wish upon a Rat (22 page)

Ruth took a last look at the disheveled nun and ran for the stairs.

“Come on!” she yelled.

But Bridie was rooted to the spot, staring at Sister Gregory in shock.

Ruth ran back, lunged for her hand, and pulled her up the stairs, three at a time. Sister Gregory, holding the bits and pieces of her wimple in one hand, wasn't far behind.

At the top was a dusty little landing. At first it seemed there was nothing else. Ruth looked around wildly. Behind them, the heavy footsteps of Thunder Guts were getting closer.

She looked helplessly at her friend. Maybe Bridie had imagined the whole thing. But Bridie rushed past her and pushed open a dark wood door that Ruth hadn't seen. They ran through into a strange world of white. White walls. Six white beds with white coverings. And in the beds, six old ladies in little white caps and identical white nightgowns.

A young nun dressed in a normal black habit but with a large white apron tied over the front was tending one of the old women. She turned and looked up when Ruth and Bridie entered the room and her mouth fell open.

“What in God's name!” she exclaimed in a thick Irish brogue, too surprised to be cross. “Is that you, Bridie Fallan? In the name of the Lord, what are you doing
here?
”

“Sorry, Sister Anne,” Bridie said, gasping for breath. “Can you tell us where … I've forgotten … where that little red door is?”

The nun pointed to a corner of the room and, much to Ruth's relief, there it was: a small red door! To the side of the mantelpiece
over the filled-in fireplace, just as Bridie had remembered. They grinned at each other in relief and made a dash for it just as the furious figure of Sister Gregory appeared in the doorway.

“Catch those girls, Sister Anne!” she bellowed.

All the old nuns sat up to see what was going on.

Ruth and Bridie were already at the red door.

“You first,” Ruth yelled, opening the door. “Just jump. It'll be okay.”

Bridie stared down into the darkness fearfully.

“But … there's nothing there!” she wailed.

“I'll go first and show you.”

Ruth held out a hand to Bridie. But then to her dismay Sister Gregory appeared behind her friend.

“Quick, grab my hand and we'll go together!”

Ruth managed to clutch one of Bridie's hands, but Bridie couldn't move because Sister Gregory was pulling her the other way.

“Let her go,” Ruth screamed, “you great stinking bully!”

But Sister Gregory had no intention of letting go. She might have lost the battle, but she was determined not to lose the war. When she jerked hard on Bridie's arm, Ruth suddenly lost her balance and tipped backward and … fell.

Down, down, down she went, into the deep blackness.

“Bridie!” Ruth screamed. “
Bridie!
”

body jarring on impact.

Ouch! That hurt.
She shook her head and tried to get her thoughts in order.

She was sitting on the bank next to the big rock, with the curving expanse of brown water only a meter away. Her bum really hurt where she had landed on it, and she had grime and dust all over her clothes. And … there was no Bridie.

“Rodney!” she shouted. “Rodney, where are you? I just know you're here somewhere!”

But all was quiet and there was no sign of the rat.

Gradually, as the full extent of Bridie's plight hit Ruth, she became more and more upset. Against all the odds, within just a few hours they'd become such good friends. In fact, Bridie was the nicest person her own age that Ruth had ever met; and more than that, she desperately needed help, and
much more than that,
Ruth owed her! It was Ruth who had enticed Bridie into
risking everything with promises of a new life, and then at the very last moment only Ruth had been able to escape, leaving poor Bridie behind! She had ditched her! And Ruth wasn't the only one to blame.

“That creepy little …
rat
!” Ruth muttered furiously under her breath. “He
knew
something like this would happen. I just know he did.” Her anger toward the rat mixed with her concern for Bridie until fury was rolling through her in giant waves. She'd asked for no family and been hurled back to a virtual jail in the 1950s! How dumb was he? Or perhaps he'd
meant
to freak her out. Whatever the reason, there was no way she could leave Bridie in such a dire situation. No way in the world!

Ruth picked up a few stones and flung them into the river. She must find a way to get back to that place and time. She didn't care if she had to stay there forever. Well, she did care, of course, but … she was prepared to do it.

She sat down on the large rock, staring in front of her for a while until the thick, anxious feeling rose up and blocked her throat. This time she couldn't do anything about it. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with both fists, but more arrived to take their place, until her whole face felt like one hot, sore bruise. She knew that she probably looked a fright too, but she didn't care. If only Howard would come back—at least she'd have someone to tell.

What to do? She knew what she
should
do, but without
the rat, what
could
she do? Returning to that school would be impossible without him. She hadn't planned on spending the rest of her life back in the twentieth century, but if that was the only way she could save Bridie, then she'd do it. Her mum and dad had been kids not so long after that time and they'd survived, hadn't they? If both Bridie and she ended up at Barrytown for the rest of their lives, then so be it! They would manage somehow. They almost managed to get away once, so who was to say they wouldn't succeed the next time?

But she couldn't do anything without Rodney. Ruth gave a deep sigh. The sun had come out from behind a cloud and the warmth comforted her a little.

Suddenly, she heard a slight scratching sound. She held her breath and waited to see if she had imagined it. No. There it was again, followed by a couple of polite throat-clearings. Ruth turned around quickly and … there he was.

Rodney was leaning up against a nearby rock.

“Well, hello there,” he said in an unconcerned tone. “I take it things were not exactly to your liking?”

Ruth stared at him furiously, not trusting herself to even speak.

He looked different this time, fatter and sleeker and more arrogant. A quick, sharp boot in the backside might take that gloating look off his face! And something else was different too.

“I've got glasses,” he said, as though able to read her mind,
pointing proudly at the wire-rimmed spectacles sitting on the tip of his nose.

Ruth shrugged. As far as she was concerned they looked completely ridiculous, but she didn't bother saying so. She wanted to tell him that rats didn't wear glasses and that he should go get himself a life, but she knew she'd better stay cool and keep him on her side if possible. She needed to give herself the best chance of getting what she wanted.

“I don't know if I told you that I had trouble reading,” Rodney prattled on. “When I got these, everything became clearer.” He smiled at her, probably able to tell that she was on the point of exploding. “And I can read perfectly now.”

Ruth grimaced and turned away. One of Marcus's favorite lines popped into her mind:
Tell someone who cares!

“Please cut it out, Rodney,” Ruth said. “I need to go back there.”

The rat frowned, shifted about awkwardly on his two hind feet, and tried to look as though he didn't know what she was talking about.

Ruth peered at him. She could swear that he was faking that
deeply serious
expression. She took a closer look. Yes, there was a smirk hanging around the corners of that mean little mouth. The idea that he was finding the situation funny made her see red.

“Listen, I'm deadly serious,” she said. “I've thought it all through. I want to stay there.”

The rat walked down to the river and put his toe tentatively in the water and then pulled it out quickly.

“Freezing,” he muttered.

“Will you listen to me!” Ruth exploded. “I
demand
to go back.”

“But what about your
friend
here?” he said lightly.

“He'll be okay! You promised he would be. It's Bridie I'm worried about!”

With both front paws clasped behind him, the rat began to walk around in circles. After a while he stopped and folded his paws over his bony little chest, and looked away into the distance.

“No can do,” he muttered eventually.

“What!” Ruth stood up.

“Absolutely not on.”

“Rodney, did you hear me?” Ruth said tersely, taking a few steps toward him. “I
need
to go back there.”

He cleared his throat. “That is not really possible, I'm afraid. Sorry about that.”

“It has got to be possible! I left a very special person back there who—”

“Look, why don't we sit down and discuss this reasonably?” Rodney said in a firm, kind voice.

“Right,” she said through gritted teeth. How dare a sneaky little
rat
patronize her!

Rodney scooted over to the rock that she'd been sitting on and jumped up onto it.

“Do you think we might have something … to eat while we talk?” he suggested. “You've got an apple, haven't you?”

Ruth was actually starving, but she decided not to oblige him. She needed to keep him on track and show him just how serious she was.

“We've got business to attend to,” she snapped. “When we get that sorted, then we'll eat.”

“No point doing business on an empty stomach.”

“I'm in a hurry, Rodney.” Ruth sat down on a patch of grass.

“Aren't we all?” The rat sighed.

Ruth was finally beginning to understand that Rodney simply didn't have the power to send her back to save Bridie. She lay on her back on the grass and closed her eyes. What a mess! What a complete disaster she had made of everything.

“So, you're telling me it's a total impossibility?”

“No repeats, unfortunately,” Rodney said.

Ruth sighed miserably.
What would be happening to Bridie right at that moment?
Sister Gregory's face rose to the surface of her mind. Those mean eyes and the steel grip of her fingers. Ruth lifted her hand to her cheek where the nun had struck her and shivered.

Rodney cleared his throat a couple more times. “You do have one more wish,” he said quietly. “I realize that—”

“No way!” Ruth cut him off. “If there's no chance of going back to save Bridie, I'm not even going to think about using that third wish! It can just stay right where it is.”

“I think that is a mistake.”

“But I've messed up Bridie's life,” Ruth wailed. “Totally! If only I could undo that.”

“Ah well, I
might
be able to help you there,” Rodney said.

“How do you mean?” Ruth sat up quickly.

“I'll have to check,” he said thoughtfully, “but I
think
I might just be able to undo what happened from the time you got there. Nothing else, mind … just the section of time you were there, but I need to get some independent advice on it.”

“Who from?” Ruth asked sharply.

“From my uncle Siggy. He's an expert in this kind of thing. Of course, I would prefer
not
to contact him, but if you're absolutely adamant that you—”

“Ask him!” Ruth commanded loudly. “You must ask him! Please.”

Rodney winced. “No point getting flustered.”

“I'm not flustered!” Ruth snarled, on the point of tears.

“All right”—Rodney was pointedly polite—“but I've got to find him. I'll be as quick as I can.”

“Okay,” she agreed. What choice did she have?

Ruth saw that one of her shoelaces had come undone. She bent over to retie it. When she looked up again, the rat was already gone.